


Stranger Things Have Happened

by moodwriter



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:19:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodwriter/pseuds/moodwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy is a contemporary music student in New York, and he takes the subway from the Bronx to Greenwich Village every morning. Then he meets Adam on the train and finds himself in a bit of a predicament.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranger Things Have Happened

**Author's Note:**

> I read my twitter feed and people talk. Then I get ideas and I can't shake them. What do we learn from this? People on my twitter feed are pervs. Love you guys! :D
> 
> This was betaed by my darling friend, Jenn. And then lovely aislinn gave me the last corrections. :D

Tommy hops onto train number two, carrying only his backpack because he left his guitar at the New School yesterday. 

He can’t believe he’s in New York. It’s only his second week, and his mom is so proud of him. They never believed he could do this after pissing on the statue of Virgin Mary, but he proved them wrong. He’s going to get his bachelor of fine arts one day, and then... and then... He hasn’t figured it all out yet. He’s just going with the flow. Like right now, when everyone seems to be wanting to get out of the Bronx and into Manhattan. 

The train car is packed already, but people are still pushing in, and Tommy soon finds himself close to the door that leads to another car, crushed against bodies and solid wall. He has nothing to hold onto, but it doesn’t matter because he couldn’t move anyway. He’s stuck. He hopes the masses will leave him alone before Greenwich Village because getting out right now would turn into a massacre. 

He’s concentrating on chords, making the whole world disappear around him because he doesn’t want to panic. He’s hiding in his own mind when he feels a body pressing against his side. He tries to ignore it, but that body is persistent, and Tommy wonders what kind of a perv is trying to dry hump him in the broad daylight, and if the perv thinks he’s a girl. 

Tommy is so ready to bust the guy’s balls, but all those ideas die when he sees the apologetic look on the guy’s face. “Sorry, they’re pushing.”

“It’s okay,” Tommy says, trying to concentrate on his music again, but it proves to be impossible because the guy practically crowds Tommy against the wall. 

“Sorry,” the guy says again. He tries to keep himself from crushing Tommy by placing his hands against the wall and pushing back, but the effort is pretty much useless. 

“Since you’re getting to know my balls, my name is Tommy.” He grins. “I’d shake your hand, but...”

“Adam.” He grins back, looking down at Tommy. “I didn’t mean to get up close and personal with your parts.” 

“That’s what they all say.” 

They stay quiet after that, Adam trying to crush him as little as possible, but more people keep coming in, and nobody seems to want to get out, and soon there’s nothing between them. Tommy is practically riding Adam’s thigh. 

It’s not altogether unpleasant, and then, to his utter mortification, there is an approaching boner. Tommy is in big trouble. He tries to think of all the horribly embarrassing moments of his life, all those times he’s felt stupid and small and worthless. This is not the time to pop wood. 

He doesn’t look at Adam, just digs out his phone with difficulty, and goes through his messages, trying to find something that would distract him from the way Adam presses against him every time the train moves this way or that way. 

Then he feels Adam move his hips, and that was unnecessary. That was... unfair. Tommy tilts his head back and to the side, trying to get away from Adam, if not physically, at least mentally. He needs distance right the fuck now. 

Adam’s face is close to Tommy’s ear and neck, and his breaths are hot against Tommy’s skin, and when Adam licks his lips the tip of his tongue touches Tommy’s neck. That’s too much, and Tommy pulls in air, shock and pleasure surging through his veins. He doesn’t want Adam to notice, but it’s impossible when they’re this close. 

When Adam leans in and bites his neck it’s not an accident, not at all. It’s intentional, and it’s a question, and Tommy doesn’t know the answer. He pants, still not looking at Adam, and when Adam puts a hand between the wall and Tommy’s back it’s clear what he wants. 

There’s nothing but conflict in Tommy’s mind so he has no idea what he wants, but he doesn’t stop Adam when he pulls Tommy up so he’s properly riding Adam’s thigh, so close now he can breathe in nothing but Adam’s scent. 

He quickly pockets his phone because he might drop it, and then grabs Adam’s shoulders because he only has his toes touching the ground. 

Adam bites him again, keeping the steady rhythm, holding Tommy close. Then Adam touches Tommy’s mouth with his finger, and Tommy opens his eyes (when had he closed them?), opens his mouth too, and Adam pushes the finger in, gently touching his tongue. “Make it wet,” Adam whispers, staring at Tommy, and all he can do is suck his cheeks to create more saliva because he knows what’s going to happen. He sees it in Adam’s eyes. 

Tommy distantly realizes that nobody pays any attention to them because their backs are turned and because Adam doesn’t move much. He makes Tommy move, and it’s evil, sinful, perfect. 

Adam pulls his finger out of Tommy’s mouth, bringing his lips so close they are almost kissing, breathing together, and then he slides his hand under Tommy’s shirt, inside his pants, down between his ass cheeks, and pushes the wet finger in, slowly, slowly, and Tommy goes rigid, Adam’s thigh warm and demanding between his own, making him want to cream his pants. 

Adam uses that finger to make Tommy move. He presses it all the way in, and then grabs Tommy’s ass, holds him, raises him up and then lowers him down, tiny, almost invisible movements that make Tommy whine against Adam’s neck. 

“God, you’re pretty. I only have a few stops. Please come,” Adam is whispering in his ear, his lips brushing Tommy’s skin, and it’s too much, too good, too perfect, and his whole body stiffens before the orgasm, his mind breaking a little as he shakes in Adam’s arms. He’s shameless when he rubs himself against Adam, gets off on it, and when it’s over Adam doesn’t let go, just holds him there, kissing his cheek. “Good boy.”

Then he feels Adam pulling his finger out, adjusting Tommy’s pants and kissing his parted lips. “Perfect.” 

And suddenly Adam is walking away, his forefinger in his mouth, a wicked grin on his face, and Tommy feels the need to rush after him. The doors close before he can, and he looks at Adam through the glass, waving stupidly. 

Adam waves back, blowing a kiss his way. 

The train is not so full anymore, and Tommy wonders how many people noticed what they were up to, if any. He doesn’t get any stink eyes so he guesses they managed to go unnoticed. 

His pants feel disgusting, but he’s starting to grin like a fool. He’s never experienced anything like that, and he’s going to cherish it for the rest of his life. 

Coming to New York was the best decision ever.


End file.
